I found a twist of ribbon-like streets, lined by rows of closed doors during the hottest hours of the day, when the villagers bury themselves inside under the pretext of a long lunch. The boulangerie, the charcuterie and the local corner shop owners had also retreated, and nothing remained of the morning’s flurry for fresh bread.
Iain
My 2010 profile will be posted soon.
This blog is a thinly veiled excuse for a very long holiday. It’s an easy way to abate the nagging suspicion that I might not one day find myself happily ensconced at a desk, amongst other career driven grown ups, because I spent too much time wandering aimlessly around Europe and Asia in my twenties.
And worse: I’m an aspirant journalist. I studied a vaguely media oriented BA, worked for a .com startup, the ill fated gal.co.za, and then briefly for The Daily Telegraph, on travel. Aspirant journalists have a slim chance of success and are told so, repeatedly. A Professor at the University of Cape Town, where I studied, once waved his hand over a bursting lecture theatre and pronounced that not half, not a quarter, perhaps not even a tenth of the class would go on to find the coveted job of media creative.
In defiance, I decided to publish myself (and because nobody else is begging for the privilege). It’s merely convenient that my life should take on the semblance of public interest while I travel through the old world. The journey, described elsewhere, is the product of somewhat more complex reasoning.
I’m perplexed by the idea of “doing” a place. People describe themselves as having done the Great Wall of China or the Eiffel Tower. Or Paris and Berlin. And even an entire country. The statement confuses me. What was done? You’ve been there, visited the place and its people, certainly. Is its every nuance now apparent? Or was it a task, something to tick off a list?
Our itinerary reflects my peculiar loathing of these drunken and all too rapid border crossings, in search of a photograph and a tan. We’re travelling slowly, progressing through the increasingly unfamiliar, in an attempt to avoid shabby generalisations, and to understand what our limited time and money allow.
Iain Manley
London, 2005
iain@oldworldwandering.com
